


This Kingless Kingdom

by Larkawolfgirl



Series: Dare to Write Challenge [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Emotionally Repressed, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Relationship Issues, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10887945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: In a game of chess, all it takes to win is to claim the king. For a king's subjects are lost without him.Or; Without Noctis, nothing was the same.





	This Kingless Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> For the Dare to Write Challenge. Prompt: Off with the head.
> 
> I imagined this longer and the idea deserves more than I gave it.

It was an anomaly how the sun could be warm enough to reach all the way through their skin into their bones and strip away years of tired tension as their insides simultaneously turned to chilled stone, heavy and burdensome. Light, now so exceptional it was literally blinding in its intensity, left murky shadows in its wake. The still air was alive with churning emotions.

Prompto was the first to react. A small unconscious smile broke his upturned face as he strained to take in as much of the sun’s rays as possible. A squeal burst from his lips, quickly replaced by a shrill cry. Frustrated tears began to stream freely.  The sun—the beautiful, wonderful sun—was back, the world was finally safe…and his best friend was gone. He wasn’t alone, but right then it felt like it was just him burning in the sun. He touched his chest, noticing the acute signs of hyperventilation setting in. Breathe, he chastised himself. Just breathe, damn it! Noct didn’t go and die for you to croak from oxygen deprivation!

Prompto recalled losing Noct the first time, the same initial reaction before self-deprecation set in. For he was nothing more to Ignis and Gladiolus than Noctis’ best friend; they had no need of him. It had been easy to shut down, to wallow in his misery and self-hatred. But looking back, that had been infinitely easier to deal with since he had never given up hope that Noctis would return eventually—because he _had_ to. Because there was so much at stake, and Prompto couldn’t convince himself his heart could take it otherwise.

Still, he had failed Ignis and, worst of all, failed Noctis. But he wouldn’t this time; he had meant his promise.

Ignis could not see the light but he could feel it, first in his toes as it slowly moved higher and higher. There was little joy there, for the world would forever remain dark for him. His eyes ached where the tears forced their way through, coming slow but steady. He made no sound, silent in his heartache. A crinkle could be heard as his gloved hand fisted at his side. He should have done something—anything—to prevent this. But he hadn’t even _known_. He was Noctis’ adviser, esteemed for his knowledge, but he hadn’t even _known_. Irrational guilt brought with it an obtuse numbness which prevented him from taking note of Prompto’s gasping breaths not two feet away.

Gladiolus was the last to act, yet the loudest. It was all fury, wild and fierce. With a mighty roar, Gladio struck at the empty air, at a nearby tree, and finally the ground before he slumped there. Heavy pants escaped his lips as his pulse pounded loud enough to deafen him. He slammed his palm against the hard earth, ignoring the bite of stones and chipped gravel. Gladio was Noctis’ shield. He was supposed to die to protect him, not the other way around. He had always been prepared to die for him; never in a million years had he prepared himself to live on _without_ him. (Of course this wasn’t exactly true. He’d already lived without him for ten years. Ten _horrible_ years).

The fact that this was their second time losing their king didn’t make this any less painful. Noctis’ return had been like having a treat dangled in their faces only to have it soon yanked away. Only they each knew deep in the recesses of their mind that he had been the needed stitching to their mangled relationship. His return had been welcomed and necessary; what hurt was that it meant they had to grief a second time. At least the first time they’d had hope even as thin as it had become.

When they first lost him, it was more disbelief they felt than initial sorrow. How could Noct have just disappeared? What were they even supposed to do without him? They had no kingdom to return to, no king to advise and protect. They only had each other. They had huddled together as the unsympathetic black crystal stared back.

They had tried to find comfort in each other, but this soon turned to restlessness. Hunts were the only normalcy between them. Those prominent challenging smirks of old would find Gladio’s face every so often and Ignis’ strategies would keep them circling each other as synchronized as a dance retinue. But regardless of how in-synch they were, their relationship continued to waver. Gladio barely spoke and Prompto would word vomit at the drop of a hat. No matter how many kisses and assurances Ignis gave, there was no reciprocation. Gladio would leave without a word for entire days on end until finally he just never returned, and Prompto’s shell cracked further with each passing day until finally he denied any form of comfort Ignis tried to offer. He had asked him crazy questions like why he even cared. It wasn’t like Ignis had any obligation to him now that Noct wasn’t around. Of course, Ignis told him he was being absurd— _he loved him_ —but of course Prompto was far too gone for that. No, you don’t, was all he’d said, turning his back away. Eventually, it was too painful and Ignis walked out of the caravan with only the minutest hope that Prompto would stop him.

But now it was different. This wasn’t a dark, ill-fated world but one with a shining further. A future they had purpose in. Insomnia needed rebuilt, governance needed to be put into place, and policies needed to be redecided. They could not afford to wallow in their grief as before. Besides, they had promised Noct they wouldn’t fall apart again.

It was this train of thought that steadied Prompto’s breathing and Gladio’s outburst. Prompto stepped to Ignis’ side, leaning his head onto his shoulder. “Iggy,” he breathed, “got you this time.” He felt the man shudder before his gloved hand reached up to tangle in his hair and hold him that much closer.

Gladio turned his eyes upward, taking them in. “Sorry,” he muttered hoarsely.

“Whatever for?” Ignis asked.

“For ditching on you last time. Wasn’t being fair.”

Ignis released Prompto so that he could crouch in front of Gladio instead. His hand squeezed at his shoulder. “We all grieve in our own ways. It would be cruel to scorn you for taking care of yourself before either of us. However, I do regret that you would not allow _us_ to care for you.”

“Yeah, big guy, you gotta open up so we can help you.”

Gladio covered both their hands with his. “You’re right. It was just so hard, ya know? Knowing I had failed him.”

“We understand and share your sentiment. You may have been his shield, but never forget we all would have chosen to die in his place.”

“Yeah…” Prompto trailed off, lowering his head so that his bangs obscured his face.

“I know.” Gladio shifted so that he was sitting more comfortably. “Just how could this happen? How could none of us have known we were leading him to his death?”

Ignis swallowed the bile in his throat. “We all knew his duty would kill him eventually. It just happened to be much sooner than we expected.” Prompto whimpered at this, and Ignis sent a reproachful look his way. “I apologize for my insensitive words. I fear I am not yet fully sensitized.”

“No,” Gladio grunted. “We did.”

Prompto met his eyes. “It’s just so unfair. He changed my life and I never got to really thank him. Why did he have to live with this burden? Why him?”

“Why do the Astrals give us any role? It is out of our hands.”

“I can’t accept that.” Gladio clenched at their hands. “What right do they have to play with us like this?”

“Gladio! You can’t go picking fights with the Astrals!” Ignis admonished. “Are you insane?”

“Relax,” he replied all-too calmly. “I won’t. I’m not dumb enough to get myself killed when there’s you two to worry about.”

“Guess I’ll have to stick around to keep you alive then,” Prompto said with a hint of a smile.

“Guess so.”

“So, uh,” Prompto fidgeted with the sleeve of his Crownsguard uniform, “what do we do now?”

“Now we rehabilitate the kingdom—or perhaps now it should be called a nation.” Ignis frowned at this. “To think that His Majesty never prepared for this predicament when he did know the outcome in advance.” He adjusted his glasses. “Still, we lasted ten years in a kingdom without a king, I think we can manage to put aside tradition to follow another leader.”

“And who might this leader be?” Gladio asked with an upturned eyebrow.

Ignis thought on this a moment. “Marshal Cor, perhaps?”

Gladio opened his mouth, but Prompto blurted out, “Can we really just pick the new leader like this? I mean, we were Noct’s right hand men and everything, but…”

“Kid’s right. Not that we have to hold some big election or anything, but this is bigger than the three of us.”

“Point noted. We should convene with the rest of the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive for a formal conference.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Prompto agreed. “But, do we have to do it now? I think we’ve earned ourselves some time off.”

“That we have.”

Gladio made a dramatic show of stretching, with sound effects and all. “A warm bed sounds pretty good about now.”

“You want a hotel?” Prompto asked, wide-eyed.

“Hey, now. Camping would lose its appeal if I did it every night.”

Even Ignis couldn’t help but smile at this. “A hotel it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I almost added a funeral scene but it didn't feel right to jam it in the middle and I didn't want to shift the tone back at the end.


End file.
